Returning to my old high school for the first time since my graduation in '08. I am coaching the boys rugby team for a week. Their regular coach whos a friend of mine, is suffering from a mysterious groin injury. Repercussion of the blind date I set him up with last week? Perhaps. We're not called "Cardio Bunnies" for nothing. I offered to fill in for him while he recovers.
I walk towards the field, and see a middle age 2/10 balding teacher glance at me, then stop abruptly and turn his head.
I smile politely and pray that he keeps walking. He doesn't. Instead he pushes his glasses up his nose, pushes his stodgy chest out and walks confidently up to me.
"Hey there, sexy lady." He attempts a growl. I cringe a little. He continues regardless, " How about you let me be your derivative so I could lie tangent to you curves...?"
Ahh, a Math boff. I start walking a bit faster, hoping he gets the message. He continues, a bit out of breath from trying to keep up, "I can figure out the square root of any number in less than 10 seconds. What? You don’t believe me? Well, then, let’s try it with your phone number."
I'm almost sprinting now, leaving him in sweaty pile of polyester. I barely hear his last desperate attempt, "I wish i was your problem set, because then I'd be really hard, and you'd be doing me on the desk." That guy definitely gets an "A" effort.
The boys are waiting for me when I get there. All their jaws drop to the floor and they start smirking at each other when I introduce myself. I send them to do run around the field as a warm up. Am I in heaven? 20 nubile, hard bodied "almost men". I decided then that stretching (preferable shirtless) would form a big part of this weeks training.
Throughout the week, we made a lot of progress. The boys were extremely eager to please. I could've asked them to strip down to their boxers and do cartwheels across the field and they would've happily obliged. They were all good looking but one stood out.
He had arms the size of my thighs and glistening chocolate skin. He wore far too much axe deodorant, like most high school boys do. But even that mixed with the smell of the exertion of the training, smelled blissful. He in particular, needed lots of hands-on help with the stretching exercises.
It was the end of my final Practice. The boys gave me chocolates and thanked me for being such a good stand-in coach. Asked me to help cover for their regular coach more often. After a lot of laughs and hugs, they left one by one, until surprise, surprise! It was only me and the delicious chocolate God of a man.
We flirted a bit and established the fact that he had turned 18 the month before.
I commented casually, "I should go now, everyone's gone home and I have to lock up the change rooms. I have the keys." I dangled the bunch of keys in front him as he looked at me with a naughty glint in his eyes.
5 minutes later we back at the change rooms. That boy did me with the eagerness of the class nerd desperately trying the teacher's attention when she's asked a question. He needed a little bit of instruction, and like a good coach, I guided him through. We finished off with the force of 2000 Durban sports fans screaming when the Sharks score the winning try against the Bulls.
High school boys. No matter how old you get, they always stay deliciously the same.
*end of part 4
